


Just. Better.

by Goldy



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-28
Updated: 2014-07-28
Packaged: 2018-02-08 19:09:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1952724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goldy/pseuds/Goldy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shmoopy reunion fic with kissing and licking, but not necessarily in that order.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just. Better.

“You still smell the same.”

She chuckled, a vibration he felt against his neck. “You, too.”

He did not point out that his Gallifreyen senses were far more advanced than human senses. He could probably sniff out what she’d had for breakfast—that was, if he wanted to. And he could positively say that beneath her perfume, beneath the slight shine of sweat and grime, she did smell _exactly_ the same. Very… Rose Marion Tyler-y.

“What about taste?” she said. “That still the same?”

Well, that was a challenge if he’d ever heard one. And he did so _hate_ to turn down a challenge.

He pulled away slightly and dragged his tongue along her cheek. “Hmm,” he said, wiggling his tongue and considering. “No, wait, hold on—obviously an imposter. I’ll have to go back and get the right one.”

She laughed, a truly _delightful_ sound. He beamed at her, feeling quite proud of himself.

“TARDIS looks a bit different,” she said. “Sort of… darker.”

“Ooh, do you like? I’ve been thinking of redecorating. Never really made it mine after the regeneration— _well_ , I did polish the floors once or twice. What do you think about an easy chair in the console room? I’ve always wanted one of those little chair… things. You know, with the… foot rests.”

Rose blinked at him; perhaps considering he should have better things to discuss than easy chairs and foot rests. Or perhaps not. That was the nice thing about Rose. She never seemed to mind _what_ he said, just so long as she was around to hear it.

“Your room’s still there,” he continued. “I haven’t—wouldn’t, I should say—touched it. I mean… I did go in there, once or twice—I…”

He trailed off, mouth still hanging open. He shut it and swallowed. He didn’t tell her that the “once or twice” had been enough. There had still been an open tube of lipstick setting on her dresser, dirty laundry littering the floor, like the room’s occupant had left in a rush, never pausing to imagine it wouldn’t be coming back.

She gave him an indulgent smile and he uncomfortably looked away, feeling as though she could see right through him. _Impossible_ , he told himself. He had centuries of experience at hiding his feelings.

“You haven’t changed at all, have you?” she said.

He had no idea how to respond to _that_ , so he settled for clearing his throat a few times and peering around the TARDIS in an ambiguous kind of way.

He couldn’t tell her. All those things—turning human, _punishing_ the Family for the end of time. And then the Master; finding a small bit of _hope_ that he might not be the last of his kind—only to have him die in his arms.

No, he didn’t want to tell her. He didn’t want it to touch her. He didn’t want her to look at him with that knowledge in her eyes.

She swallowed. “Doctor?” She nudged him with her shoulder, some sort of understanding on her face. “We don’t have to talk about it.”

He gave her the most brilliant smile he could muster. It was better, having Rose back. It wasn’t a magic cure, but it just… it made things better.

“So,” Rose said. She released him and wandered over to the console. She bit her lip and then said, “Where are we gonna go first?”

It was all so familiar and new at the same time—like wallowing in a faded memory. He resisted the urge to pinch himself, certain if this _was_ a dream, it wasn’t worth waking up from.

In the back of his mind, the TARDIS hummed with silent approval. “Oh, I don’t know,” he said. “Does it matter?”

She gave him a knowing smile. “I suppose not.”

She turned around to study the vidscreen and he followed her without realizing it. He tried to ignore the way his hands were shaking.

“Rose.”

She turned around, puzzled by his serious expression. “Yes?”

He squeezed his eyes shut once and then blurted, “I love you.”

His voice squeaked slightly (only slightly) and his right foot gave a nervous tap against the grating. But—oh, how much better it felt to get it out.

He even made a commendable effort to start breathing again.

She stared at him for a moment and then she broke out into a wide smile. “You are so daft,” she said. She pushed his arm, rolling her eyes. “Honestly.”

He winked. “What’s a parallel universe reunion if there isn’t a grand declaration at the heart of it, hmm?”

A thoughtful expression passed over her face. Then she shrugged, grabbed his face between two hands, and kissed him soundly. It took him a moment to respond, but then he quite happily kissed her back. The TARDIS hummed joyfully in the back of his mind again—which was, well, a bit creepy, frankly. He told her (the TARDIS, not Rose) to go sod off (politely), but then Rose pulled away. He tried to hide his disappointment.

Her smile was tentative, if a little questioning. He blinked at her in a way that probably looked completely stupid.

“I—you… blimey,” he managed.

She looked torn between laughing and kissing him again.

“Yeah?”

“Oh, yes,” he said. He paused. “Where did you learn to do that thing with your tongue?”

She shook her head and patted him on the head (he most certainly did _not_ lean into her touch like some sort of overly responsive puppy) and pointedly refrained from answering.

He grabbed her hand as she pulled away. “Rose—”

She only beamed and whatever he was going to say died on his lips. He didn’t point out that she’d left it all behind again, only this time for good. She’d left Jackie and Pete and the baby. He didn’t know if it was the right thing. _He didn’t know_. And he needed her too badly to even think about sending her back.

He was more selfish than he used to be.

The look on her face told him she knew what he was thinking. “Come on,” she said, tugging him forward. “Whole universe out there waiting for us, yeah?”  



End file.
